


Terror Kink Drabbles

by Anonymous



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drabble Collection, Humiliation, M/M, Macro/Micro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Small Penis, Vore, kink shorts, tags will be updated as more chapters are added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hi welcome to the worst piece of literature ever written- now with navigable chapter titles!A collection of growing kink shorts of very, very, VERY weird and niche kinks. you can see the tags you know what this is going to get up to.1. fitzier SPH2. fitzier micro vore...and more to be added!
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Kudos: 14
Collections: Anonymous





	1. F/JFJ small penis (humiliation)

**Author's Note:**

> Francis could blame the whiskey on his dick not getting hard- if he had enough dick to get hard in the first place. James learns the reason for Francis's touchless devotion.
> 
> takes place in a vague modern setting!

Francis’s favorite thing about sucking James was the moments when his soft thighs would press against the side of his face, warming his cheeks and keeping him there, nestled into James’s soul. Or perhaps his favorite thing was when he’d glance up at his face, watch James’s eyes flutter closed and his mouth hang open. Or maybe it was the feeling of James’s trimmed nails running through his hair, causing a deeply satisfying tingle behind Francis’s ears. 

Francis could write an official report of every single thing about James fitzjames which he found deeply, maddeningly lovable. But Francis had to come to terms with the fact that his  _ real _ relief, the thing about James that made Francis’s heart light, was the fact that he never asked for anything in return. James understood Francis’s addiction to serving James with nothing in return, his feverish obsession with making sure James was as soft, safe and sound as possible. 

His rules were very strict- He accepted no plea for James to fuck him, nor did he accept plea to be fucked by James. So their moments alone like this began to evolve- in practice, no- but in idea, in concept. No longer was Francis sucking him off, sucking his cock. He was worshipping him, singing wordless hymns as he licked over every possible inch, every instance of cock that James had to offer. To break this ritual would be to-

“I wanna make you cum.” James had said, his voice still heady and broken from having freshly come into Francis’s throat. His slender fingers were gently carding through his own pubic hair, his beautiful nude body laying slack against the wall.

“James-”   
  
“Please, Francis?” His pleas were playful, his smile cool as he toyed with Francis’s collar with his foot. “I don’t want to say I’m getting bored of your cocksucking talents, but I just think it’d be hot.” His toes wandered to rest under Francis’s uneasy face.

“It won’t.” Francis said, trying to sound as defeated as possible. James snorted. 

“Francis-” James stammered. “Look, I understand. I really do! I know what it’s like to really hate your body.” Francis winced and James shifted, twisted to lie on his side on the bed so his face was next to where Francis was kneeling on the floor. “But I  _ Love _ you, Francis. That includes your body. And, for what it's worth, a-and from what you’ve allowed me to see… you’re beautiful, Francis.”

Francis looked up hesitantly into James’s encouraging eyes. His hair draped across his face and he smiled warmly, which caused the doom in Francis’s stomach to deepen.   


“Now stand up and show me your cock this instant.” James sat back up, taking a regal pose with a leg crossed over the other. “That's an order!”

Francis obeyed somewhat- pushing to a stand but stilling uncomfortably, muttering and hesitantly undoing his trousers. He resisted once more, cursing under his breath and moving to speak.

“Just let me see it, darling.” James pleaded. “I promise if you don’t want it we will stop and never speak of it again, but I just want to see you as you’ve seen me a thousand times over.”

“Its not that-”

“Actually, that gives me an idea.” James interrupted, throwing his hair back over his shoulder. “I would really enjoy the like, queen-worship vibes of you jerking yourself off and cumming on my naked legs while I just sit there and eat… like, fruit or something” James’s fearlessness is what scared Francis the most.

“Just let me speak, dammit.” Francis’s voice was more desperate than he wanted it to be. “James, you- you needn’t pleasure me. Not like that. It already gives me a much more meaningful feeling to please you. And I promise, I’d love for you to… do that, do what you want with me but.”

“But I want to see you  _ cum. _ ” James’s gaze burned into Francis’s avoidant eyes. “I want to see you red-faced and sweaty and I want to see your cock. Now.”

James stilled for a moment before lunging at Francis, grabbing harshly at the rim of his pyjama pants and forcing them down. 

“No!! James- oh christ.” Francis’s voice was utterly pained. His tone was as if James had been hit by a bus in front of his eyes as his body was exposed. His eyes were shut as tight as can be as he pitifully rested his hands over his stomach, wanting to cover himself but seeing no use in it anymore.

Out from under his plain T shirt poked the pale pudge of his lower belly, lined with a trail of fair curls, and nestled between his trembling legs was his cock.

...If you could even call it that. Francis’s chubby body provided a soft pocket under his stomach from which his tiny miserable penis hung, no, sat- for he hardly had enough to hang. His thick little head was nearly entirely nestled into his body, his fat and stocky stones like a round little pillow for his nonexistent shaft. They were both pitifully pink- as was the rest of Francis at the moment. 

For a brief moment, as time returned to Francis, he hoped. It was paradoxical- he thought of James bursting into laughter, but expecting-yet-not-expecting James to love him still. For him to go ‘oh, francis’ and work his ways- that was James’s greatest talent. For managing to squeeze past every turn and trap in the maze of loving Francis. He peeked open, his eyes felt as if they needed to be pried open. 

Francis felt as if he would faint. James had moved to sit on his knees on the floor in front of Francis. One of his hands still gripped the crumpled pyjama pants laying around his trembling ankles, the other was clasped firmly over his mouth. Francis dare not look at where his eyes were pointed- whether he drank in the site of his miserable stub or stared into his eyes with disbelief. 

And then he laughed. Good fucking god, he actually laughed. This was beyond torture, Francis thought, this was downright sisyphean. James’s laugh began as a snort but broke through true, his golden cackle piercing Francis harder than any arrow in existence, past existence- more than anything. James' slender hand went to rest on his chest as he threw back his head in raucous joy, his other hand slithering up Francis’s leg. Francis couldn’t speak- he wouldn’t, even if he could. He felt as if he would never speak again. 

“You- you’re-” James spoke through his laughter, hand returning to shield his mouth. “Your dick is so small!” The statement could be heard around the world- or so it felt to Francis. It was the only thing he’d ever hear. It would be written on his fucking grave- here lies Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier, his dick was so small. 

The sound that left Francis’s mouth was indescribable. A pitiful whimper-cry, the sound of utter resignation. 

“James….” 

“Aww,” James cooed, reaching a hand to cradle his stubby stones. “I’ve never seen cuter balls in my life.” He rubbed his thumb over the roughish skin, leaning in to place a neat little kiss onto the center of his sack. “Oh, Francis..” His voice was amazed- breathless, even. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How could I?” Francis’s voice was pained, slightly angry. “God, this is a fucking nightmare.”

James shot a concerned look to Francis, his brows furrowed. “Why?” 

“Why? Why??” Francis was frantic- he’d never heard himself like this before. He brushed away James's administrations and sheepishly gripped himself in hand. “I can’t even begin to say. This is why, James. I- how am I ever going to please you, now that you know my truth? That I’ve got less of a cock than a bloody woman.” 

“I like it.” James said playfully. What kind of wicked witch-- ah, it makes sense to Francis now. Now that Francis’s secret was revealed, his true self exposed, it was James’s turn. Perhaps James knew all along about his poor excuse of manhood, as he was hell’s cruelest succubus, there to force Francis’s worship and brandish the whip in return.

“I’m serious!” James pleaded, as if he could hear Francis’s thoughts. Francis’s heart dare flutter- He made eye contact with James, staring into his smile-crinkled eyes. He was biting the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. “Francis, listen.” he laughed once more.

James took Francis’s stump between two fingers and began to stroke, Francis making a confused snort at the sudden feeling. “Since we’re doing full honesty- the fullest honesty imaginable,”

“I- that- We aren't! You forced this honesty out of me!” Francis was somewhat relieved at the tone of their bickering. Francis’s tiny cock throbbed visibly between his fingers, the buzz of pleasure in Francis’s stomach growing at an alarming rate.

  
  


“Just listen!! I was bored with it, Francis. All you do is suck my cock, and you’re quite good… but there’s more to life than oral fixations. Plus, I was always team Jung rather than team Freud.”

“I can't believe this…”

“Francis, please?” James rubbed his thumb over his reclusive head, coaxing out a bead of precum. “Please let me suck your tiny cock.”

A deep wave of pleasure threatened to knock out Francis’s knees. “God…” 

“Say it.” James’s voice had dropped amusement, returning to the dark purr of before.

“S-suck.. Suck my tiny cock.” 

James cooed once more, the biting insult stoking the heat in his stomach to a roaring flame. Oh no, he likes this. 

“Yeah… yeah, I’ll suck it. I will- and if I can't even suck it then i’ll eat you out like a girl, suck at your big fat clit until your legs give out.” 

James’s hungry mouth descended, his forehead pressed into the soft pudge of his stomach. His perverted tongue slipped into the tight nook between his cock and stones, Francis feeling every twitch of his thick tongue against the top of his balls. He moaned out rough and rash as James dragged the flat of his tongue over his head.

“When was the last time someone sucked on this pathetic cock? Hm? Probably never. Has little Francis ever even come before?”

“Y-yes…” Francis answered timidly. It was true, he had pleasured himself before but never been pleasured by another- and neither had occurred in… years.

“Of course. Dreaming of bigger cocks than your own you’ve spent endless sweaty nights tugging at your little nub.. Hoping to pull it bigger perhaps? But that will never happen. Every cock you walk by is bigger than yours. God, fuck. It’s so hot to think of that, Francis. Walking around with your useless little cock and stones in your panties, knowing that every nobody that sits next to you on the train, walks past you on the streets has meat thicker than you’ll ever dream of.”

While James spat his sermon of insults, he frantically stroked at Francis’s cock between his fingers, squishing the fat head between his knuckles, making Francis’s eyes cross. 

“Go..god, this.. This is..”

“Tell me, my love. Say it.” James’s tone shifted from biting spit to a loving cream, telling Francis that oh no, oh fuck- he was loved. James was gifted Francis’s pathetic bud and he loved it, and by extension, Francis.

“This is very strange.” Francis managed, breaking into laughter himself. His mind was hazed and his hands were braced firmly against the wall. 

“Do you like it? My words, I mean.”

“God, fuck- yes. I didn’t know I needed them so badly.”

“Good. I-I feel kinda- well, I’ll get into it later. Lay on the bed and let me suck you proper, hm?”

\--   
  
Francis lay sprawled on the bed with James between his legs, the obscene sounds of him slurping at his cock, Licking him out like he was eating his pussy, causing Francis’s toes to curl in a way they hadn’t ever before. He closed his lips in a perverted kiss around his little head, the tip of his tongue pressing devilishly against his cock slit.

“God- oh, James. I-I’m gonna cum.”

James wished to respond- wished to spit more ink at his pathetic little cock but he found himself transfixed- addicted to his scent, his taste, his everything. James wondered if he would feel this way even if Francis’s cock were an acceptable size.

Francis came into James’s mouth, an adorable little burst of cum blooming hot on James’s tongue. His head throbbed vividly, flushed deep red as he felt the pulse of his long, long, long overdue orgasm rippling through his entire body. 

Reality came back to Francis as his orgasm subsided. He felt keenly embarrassed, James spit cooling on his tiny spent member.

“Was that ok?” James’s tone was caring, but confused. Francis felt a ridiculous sort of relief that James was still able to speak to him normally.

“I um, I haven’t decided yet. At the moment though, It’s more than ok. That was the hardest I’ve ever shot in my life.”

“I’m at odds because-” James shuffled to lie next to Francis, his hands fidgeting in his pale chest hair. “I sort of forced that upon you. I could tell you truly didn’t want to… y’know, show it to me. But I also feel like you’d’ve never cum like that in your life if I didn’t.”

“James- I don’t want to talk about it. I know my own stubbornness more than you. Sometimes a little force is needed.”

“That is a fully not-ok thing to say.” James laughed. Francis rolled his head and looked into James’s eyes, his gaze traveling to his pink lips.

“I can't wait to suck your tiny cock in the future, Francis.” The both of them laughed to themselves before bringing the other into a weak, sleepy kiss.


	2. Fitzier vore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis finds himself an itty bitty james

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah. only a matter of time before someone wrote vore for this fandom

“Sir!” Lieutenant Little burst through his great cabin door as Francis hurriedly shifted his cup out of view.

“Christ, Edward. What's happened now?”

“Commander Fitzjames is missing, sir. We’ve been searching for him all morning. He’s not on either ship nor the surrounding ice. ” 

Francis’s face dropped convincingly. “What?” he rasped. Was he being too dramatic? Poor Little was such a loyal dog, he shouldn’t fool him so.

“I-I’m sorry sir. There's no evidence that the bear has him- no blood, I mean. Or… parts.”

“Search again. I’ll join you soon- check every inch of the ships again. Look in all of the bloody cabinets.” He barked, his hand still firm over the top of his hidden glass. 

“Yes sir.” Edward dismissed himself, hurriedly shutting his door once more. Francis waited until his heavy panicked bootsteps fell out of range.

“Hear that?” Francis gently slid the cup back into view. “How cute. They’re searching for you.”

Standing in ankle-deep whiskey, fists pressed furiously on the side of the glass was a miniature James Fitzjames. He was just tall enough to peek over the edge of the glass, but with Francis’s rough hand covering the top he was forced to crouch uncomfortably. 

“Loyal boys, they are. I’ve no doubt they’ll even send Mr Collins out to check underneath the boats. Aye, but not a single one will think to check the captain's belly.”

Fitzjames face dropped. His fists slid down the side of the glass and he fell onto his bottom, his miniature uniform soaking in the reservoir of whiskey. At this scale the smell was like nothing he’d ever experienced, damn near burning at his nose and shortening his lungs. Francis removed his hand and cool air rushed in.

“You won’t eat me.” James growled. His voice was comically small. It wasn’t high pitched- it just sounded like James was speaking from the other side of the room. 

“Oh but I will. You think I won't?”

“You want to run this expedition alone, Francis?” James squeaked, rising to grip at the rim of the glass. Francis erupted in earth-shattering (at least to James) laughter, his gapped smile stretching sinisterly across his face.

“What-- are you going to help me? Shall I hold you in the palm of my hand when you speak to the men? Shall I get mister Honey to construct you miniature quarters?” 

“Dammit, Francis!” James’s voice was pitifully scared. “W-we have to try and fix this!”

“What do you propose we do? What do you think Dr. Macdonald will say? It's no use, James. Plus- I’ll not let you escape this.”

“What, do I  _ deserve  _ this? You’re going to chew up my arms all because you think my stories are boring?” 

“Yep. cruel world.” Francis lifted the glass with James inside, causing him to lose footing and crumple into the liquid as the glass was tipped. He yelped in fear as he gripped desperately onto the slippery glass as Francis took a drink. The wet heat from his mouth was terrifying, and the smell of his whiskey breath made James lightheaded. He bounced painfully when the glass was set harshly on the table once more. “No, I’ll not crush you between my teeth. I’m not an animal. I will taste you though.” 

“If only you were just an animal.” James’s voice was full of rageful tears. “What you are is the worst fucking pig-devil on earth.”

“What I am, James…” He tugged off his fingerless gloves and reached into the cup, placing his thumb onto James’s chest and his fingers against his back, lifting him into the air. “...Is  _ Hungry. _ ”

Francis smirked at his own words, rubbing his belly cartoonishly and staring into James’s distressed face. James futilely pushed against Francis’s constricting thumb, kicked his little boots back against his palm.

“I’ll want to keep your little uniform, however. It’s just so darling. Perhaps I’ll dress one of the ship rats in your prim little knickers. Shame you lost your hat already.”

With his other hand, Francis set up the books on the table to form a three-walled barrier, the fourth being the edge of the table. James’s only choices were to resign to being eaten or jump to his tiny little death.

It was a handsome option, James thought. Certainly the prettier of the two. But James was determined to solve this, even if it meant crawling through Francis’s horrid body himself. That’ll make a truly capital story- the telling of whatever foul beasts he’ll have to fight in Francis's bowels.

“Now, undo your little buttons for me. I don’t want to have to tear your clothes.”

James did no such thing. He crossed his arms and dropped to sit on the table like a child, closing his eyes and turning his nose up. He was soon shocked by the sudden weight of Francis’s fingertip forcing his back against the table, pressing into his chest with a force that made James wheeze. The sharp end of his fingernail dug mercilessly into his body.

“Of course. I don’t know why I asked.”

James’s vest tore like paper. The infinitesimal buttons scattered across the table as James let out a breathless cry. The wind was still out of his lungs when Francis’s finger returned, pinning him down as he carefully removed his tiny boots and pulled off his trousers.

“Dirty girl. Not even wearing knickers. I suppose with Sir John over with you’ve had to find a new daddy to spank you. Who is it? Levesconte?” James went cold at the thought of Dundy, all alone with Francis as his new first. He morbidly hoped the same strange curse would befall him, so at least the two of them would be together in Francis’s stomach. Francis’s fingertip squished into his lower stomach, pressing into his tiny guts with tremendous power as his thin nightshirt was yanked off over his head. Francis’s finger left and James scrambled to sit, pulling his knees to his chest in an attempt to cover his nakedness. Francis pinched the pile of miniscule clothes and tucked them away into his waistcoat pocket. 

Francis grabbed at James’s ankles, dragging his miniature Venus to lay flat, stunned and pained. His body was lithe, hairless and smooth. He will go down nice and easy. Francis lifted his pinky and pressed it under James’s cock, so adorably small at this scale that Francis’s lip curled in amusement. James’s thighs strained against the pad of his finger as he grunted and wiggled. He was scooped into Francis’s palm and his legs dangled over the dizzying drop as he was lifted above Francis’s head. James trembled with fear and gripped the sweaty flesh of his palm

“Please-” Was all James managed before Francis tipped his hand, throwing James into the deathly plunge into his open maw. 

James yelped like a puppy when he collided against Francis’s tongue, whining and trying to wipe Francis’s disgusting hot drool off of his body only to have it coated on even thicker as his twitchy, meaty tongue thrashes him around his mouth. He was eclipsed in darkness as Francis closed his lips, the suffocating heat of his cavernous mouth overwhelmed his very being, fogging his mind and causing his stomach to feel queasy. James sobbed between drowning, breathless gasps as he was pinned to the stretchy flesh of the captain’s cheek as he licks every inch of his naked body. The wretched feeling is enough to make him cling and bite into the slippery flesh, his voice increasing in pitch until he comes to his epitome of embarrassment, wailing fearfully and ugly like a child. He began to piss in utter hysteria against Francis’s cheek. The only consolation he has now is that he might have made the captain’s meal slightly less palatable, the last pleasure he will probably ever take. 

Light flooded in once more as James’s face was crushed against the back of Francis’s bottom teeth, His tongue resting heavy as bricks over the top of his back. Francis’s moan rattled in James’s ears. My god, he's touching himself, James thought. This is the most foul nightmare imaginable. 

James spoke far too soon, as all of a sudden the sluggish monster tongue slithered wet and slimy down the length of his back, stopping to creep menacingly under his ass.

“What- NO! Francis-” He grabbed at the soft webby flesh underneath his gums. “Stop this!” 

His pleas were not heard nor were they acknowledged. James shuddered and moaned in disgust as the huge tongue violated his ass, the giant tip throbbing against his tiny hole. The rough texture of his taste buds against his sensitive skin made James shiver, a doom sinking in his stomach as he realized the heat rising in his groin. He pounded a fist against the back of his teeth and sobbed desperately as he was raped by Francis’s tongue, too large to stuff itself inside of James but violating nonetheless, globs of infernal saliva thoroughly soaking his backside.

“Please!! Please, please…” He begged, the words barely forming as he cried, his salty tears disappearing into the thick saliva that coated every inch of his being. The skin under Francis’s tongue where James lay rubbed against his cock, the moist folds of his lingual frenulum causing his body to betray him. His semi-hard cock forcefully ground against the flesh as his ass was tongued once more, this time his balls pulled painfully back. 

Suddenly he feels Francis’s tongue slither around his stomach, flipping him onto his back. He moaned out as Francis laved over his stomach, the underside of his tongue twitching obscenely like some kind of fleshy leviathan. The weight of the tip of his tongue pressed against his cock was painful, his tiny stones crushed helplessly underneath. James sobbed and wailed as his cock was assaulted, resigning to fate as he came, his semen merely blooming into the thick pool of saliva that covered James’s entire body. James panted and gasped, his eyes shut tight as he desperately tried to comprehend what just happened.

James needs to learn to keep his eyes open in situations like this. His eyes shot open at the sudden intrusion of Francis’s tongue into James’s gasping mouth. He gagged violently as his mouth was filled beyond its limits with hot flesh, his entire body contracting from the disgusting act. An obscene amount of saliva entered his throat, forcing James to swallow. He kicked helplessly against Francis’s flesh, gagging and regurgitating the foul substance. James bit down desperately, his jaw barely able to close around the strong muscle. Francis’s tongue finally left his mouth and James coughed, vomiting up nothing but Francis’s own spittle. 

“Anny lass words?” Francis slurred, trying not to jostle him with his tongue. James cursed under his breath and just cried, lying flat against his tongue, presenting himself ready to be dragged into oblivion. 

“Safe passage, James.” 

Francis tipped his head back and swallowed thickly, moaning as he felt Fitzjames enter his throat. His eyes rolled back at the feeling of the contours of his body against the constricting walls of his throat, able to feel James’s puny hands pushing against the plush flesh. He gasped as James entered the passage to his stomach, the erotic haze causing Francis’s hips to buck involuntarily. 

“Good god…” Francis grunted to himself, feeling the lump of james slither slowly down his throat. He reached to undo his trousers, having just palmed himself at this point. He shoved the layers down just so his cock peeked out, keenly aware of how much he was jostling the little man inside him. He began to stroke himself, growling and gasping to himself. He gasped as he felt James drop into his stomach. It was a powerfully erotic, slightly queazy feeling to feel little James push against the walls of his stomach. Francis feverishly undid his buttons and pushed up the fabric of his shirt to look at his bare stomach, the very lightest of movements appearing whenever James pounded at his inner walls. He reached the hand not stroking his dick to rub his stomach, digging into his chubby flesh as he pressed circles into his fat belly. He closed his eyes as he felt James struggle more vividly. He didn’t realize how filling James would be- not enough to make a noticeable dent but just enough to feel the weight of him when he stood. He walked, belly and hard cock hanging out unceremoniously to his decanter and poured himself a glass- the same glass which James had taken his last breaths. He will make sure that no man but himself ever drink from this cup. 

Francis sat, satisfied and comfortable back in his chair and threw back the glass, stroking his cock feverishly to completion. He grunted and came at the thought of the whiskey pouring over James as he sat, alone and suffocatingly hot in his hungry belly. 


End file.
